


A Picture’s Worth A Thousand Words

by wildwordwomyn



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: First Time, Flirting, Friendship/Love, Hand Job, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-07
Updated: 2008-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwordwomyn/pseuds/wildwordwomyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Jared, Jensen's pictures really are worth a thousand words. And what they're saying gets Jared hot under the collar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Picture’s Worth A Thousand Words

**Author's Note:**

> I took liberties with Jensen's family and early modeling career since I don't know much about either. From Jensen's POV.

The thing about my family is I could fit what I know, really know, about them onto the pad of my pinky finger. How we ended up so distant is a mystery. No, I take that back. It started when I was six and I told my mama I wanted to act. She looked right at me and laughed. Back then I laughed too. Seemed easier than showing how hurt and disappointed I was. Now she watches the show with my dad and when I ask if I was good all she says is 'Sure, sugar!' Truth is no one comes from where I’m from and acts. Even worse, my career started with modeling. It was my way of breaking into the business. But explaining that to your friends in high school, after they see you in spreads where homoerotic is an understatement, is, well, let’s just say me getting pregnant would be more believable.

"Dude, some of these pictures just scream 'twink'!" Jay laughs, leaning close to the computer screen to better view some of my bio gallery photos.

"Hey, I didn’t know..." But I laugh too. They do look really posed and if I could do it all over again I wouldn’t pout my lips half as much. Hell, I wouldn’t have posed for half the spreads.

"So, how many guys hit on you after these came out?"

"Jay!" He looks at me innocently, curious. I debate killing him before or after we finish wrapping for the week.

"How many?"

"All of ‘em, you dick!"

"Sure you wanna use that word when we’re talking about gay sex?"

"You're disturbed." He smiles as if I’ve just complimented him. "You really are."

"Wait, you’re the one who modeled for the pictures. You’re the one who’s sticking your lips out like you’re just waiting for some guy to come along and do nasty things to them, and I’m disturbed?" he says, shaking his head. He’s still smiling, too. Bastard!

I groan. He has a point. But like I said, I didn’t know. I was young then. I didn’t know how ridiculously gay most of the photos would turn out to be. I didn’t know when I was being posed for certain ads that they actually wanted me to look this way. I especially didn’t know when I was in ads with other guys that...Honestly? It wasn’t until my teen years that modeling agents started calling me ‘pretty’, that I had grown male photographers hitting on me. I was just a kid from Texas trying to act in LA.

"My innocence has been forever tainted by those pictures," I stated gravely, then give him my trademark pout before going to get another beer.

What I don’t tell Jay, what I’ve never told anyone, is that there was one guy I worked a Sears clothing catalogue with who kissed me during our shoot. I didn’t stop him either. That was as far as anything with him went but, yeah, for a second, I’d considered more. And the way he looked at me was the same way Jay just looked at me...When I come back to his office with two beers he shows his gratitude by grinning, then backing away from the computer so I can see my Dean face in all its glory. I’m pouting in the promo photo, but not half as much. And I don’t look so pretty anymore, thank god.

"These Supernatural pictures are much better, Jen. No twink pictures anymore. But you’re still pouting a little." He smirks.

"Yeah, well," I stammer, "your nostrils are flaring in that one." I point just so he won’t miss it. "And, dude, what is it with my lips?"

At this point I shut up. I’m watching him as I ask the question. I really wanna know the answer because to me they’re just lips. Jay’s eyes are now riveted to the offenders. Out of nervousness I lick them and his eyes track the movement. I want to ask him to turn away, to not stare so openly, but there’s another part of me, a darker part, that feels the need to see how far I can go. I sit on the edge of his desk and put my hands in my jeans pockets, not once moving my gaze from his. I spread my feet and tilt my pelvis. He watches me with growing interest as I ball my hands to draw attention to my crotch. Jay looks down at it with his own lips slightly parted. I find myself getting hard.

"Uh...huh?"

Now I've forgotten what I was doing. Oh, right. Flirting.

"You have a thing for my lips, Jay?"

I lick them again just to see what his reaction will be. "What?" he asks, confused.

I slide a little closer, hands still balled in my jeans pockets, still staring into his eyes. It's obvious that he's just about to back up so I spin his chair before he can protest and place a boot on it in the V of his parted thighs. When he looks down I pretend to adjust my belt buckle. His gaze flies up to my crotch, making him flush a bright red.

"Like what you see?" He finally does what he's been too mesmerized to do before. He backs the chair up so that my leg falls to the floor.

"Jen?" he questions, his voice higher and breathier than normal. "What the hell?!"

"Just asking a question." I take my hands out of my pockets now. Let him see what's happening below the Mason-Dixon line. This time he can't move or turn his head away. I'm hard and he likes it. "Do you like what you see?" I repeat.

"...Jesus..." he whispers. "...I don't...I....." Gotcha, I think, waiting for his next move. It could make or break this moment, us, but I have to know.

He closes his eyes slowly and takes a deep breath through his nose. His nostrils flare. I'm not sure if this is good or bad, if I should be scared or excited or both. Then he opens his eyes again and looks up into mine. I see something there I've never noticed before. Desire. Well, I've seen it for his girl, and yeah, she's great and all. For some reason, though, the last thing I wanna do is think of her. Right now is about us, about how shallow my breathing has gotten and how dark his eyes are turning. This moment is more than I expected, more than I ever knew I wanted.

"Jen," he says softly, still looking up at me. "You shouldn't...I shouldn't..." I take a step forward because I can't not. "Shit!" I take another step, then another until I'm in his space.

"Jay, you can stop me any time. Say the word and we'll pretend this never happened." Only we won't, will we?

"No, I can't." Stop me? Say no? He looks desperate and afraid. And I shouldn't be glad that I'm having this effect on him. I shouldn't be messing with him at all. But it's Jay. Now that I've started this I have to follow it through to the end. "Jen!" It's a harsh whisper from his mouth, deep and dark, filled with promise.

I find myself leaning down while my hand reaches up to comb through his brown locks. My eyes don't leave his as I close in for a kiss. It's on then. He stands up so fast he knocks over his chair and grabs my waist. The kiss turns aggressive, hard, but I don't mind. I can't get enough of his tongue. Candy sweet, wet and thick as it duels with mine. Who knew Jay could be so…Goddamn, he can kiss…..

“…..Fuck!...” he roars, trying to push me away right when things are getting good. Right when I can feel how big he’s becoming. “Jen,” he whispers hoarsely, “we can’t!” I grab his hands, now balled into fists, before he has the chance to let go. I pull him back into me and groan. “Jen.” This time my name is nothing more than a gasp. He’s giving up. Only thing to do really. Seems our chemistry isn’t only platonic.

He drops to his knees swiftly, suddenly, his large hands shaking as they fight to unbutton and unzip my jeans. When he raises his head his eyes are pools of desperation, of desire. I drop down to drive my tongue deep into his waiting mouth. He’s so hot I wonder if he’ll catch fire. Don’t care. What matters is how fast he’s working my jeans and boxers down my hips. How eager he is when his head lowers until I feel damp exhales on my sensitive pelvis, my weeping dick. I don’t think he will but he does. He takes the head between his lips and sucks and I can’t help it. I whimper my way through an earth-shattering orgasm. I don’t notice until I’ve opened my eyes a few minutes later to see that he swallowed every drop.

“Shit, Jay, I’m sorry!” I ask then if he’s okay, if I hurt him somehow. I worry that I pushed him into something he didn’t want, wasn’t ready for.

“Hey, I can see what you’re thinking and I’m fine. A little worn out but okay.” He smiles softly.

“Yeah?” I smile back, sighing in relief. “I should, at least, you know, pay you back…”

I reach down only to be met with a growing wet spot on his jeans. I stare at it, amazed about what it means, kind of proud that it happened without me even touching him. Turns out I’m that good.

“What?” he asks, blushing, embarrassed. “Couldn’t help it.”

We lay down right where we are, on the floor of his office. Breathing. Thinking. Grinning. Well, that might just be me. I turn my head to see if he is. He’s watching me with this serious expression on his face. It hits me then, what we’ve done, what it could do to the show, to him and his girl, to our careers, to us.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” I ask. It’s the only thing I can think of to say.

“We-“

I interrupt him. “No, it was all my fault. I couldn’t leave well enough alone. Just had to know. I shouldn’t have-“

“Jen,” he calls, rolling over to put a finger to my lips,” seriously, stop, okay? I didn’t say no. I didn’t leave. I could’ve and I didn’t. You weren’t alone in this. I wanted to. God, did I want to…” He grins that blinding Jared grin I know so well. “I may be a few years younger than you but I’m an adult and I make my own decisions.” He looks at his finger, traces the outline of my mouth slowly, gently. “Wanna know the truth? I’d do it again if you’d let me. I mean you tasted-“

“Dude! Don’t need to know!” It’s a detail I’ve never wondered about and have no plans to start any time soon.

“I was gonna say you tasted kinda sweet.” He smiles and looks away as he murmurs, “I like it.”

Well, hell…

“Can I…you know?” I request, sure he understands exactly what I’m trying to get at. “If you don want to…?”

“Are you kidding? Hell yeah!”

All thoughts of anything outside this room, outside of him and me, get lost in his moan when I literally, roughly rip his t-shirt off and kiss my way down his chest. It’s slick with a light film of sweat and my saliva doesn’t help but I have to do my own tasting. I lick a path south, fumbling to get his jeans off. When they’ve finally come undone I shove my hand into his briefs, closing my eyes as skin meets skin for the first time and I cradle his balls in my hand. I growl when his hips thrust upward.

“Please,” he pleads. His voice is raw and husky and quite possibly the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I let go and grip the base of his dick, stunned that my fingertips barely meet. “Oh, Jesus, Jen!.....Jenny………” I stroke, kissing the exposed side of his neck until his own hands wraps around the back of my head to make me kiss his lips instead. “Need,” he mumbles into the kisses. “Now!” I pick up the pace, make the strokes a little harder, rub my thumb against the leaking head once, twice, until he erupts. ”…Fuck yeah, Jen!...” Actually, that was the sexiest…

After that it’s a lot of heavy panting to break up the silence.

Finally, minutes that feel like hours later, he speaks. “Hey.”

I can’t read this one word. Don’t know how to respond. “Hey,” I say back, at a loss.

“What now?”

“Uh…” That’s a loaded question if I ever heard one. “Don’t know…Nothing, I guess.”

“Nothing?! Jen, I…” His gaze tries to snare mine. “Did I do something wrong?” He sounds like he might cry, which is what I didn’t expect, although I should’ve with my answer.

“No! I just…You’re engaged and you’ve got a promising career and the last thing you need is me ruining it all-” I stop. No need to make things worse.

He shakes his head and sighs. “There you go again, assuming I’m some fragile little kid you have to protect from the big, bad world…” My eyes roam his way. “What just happened? It meant something. To both of us.” The fear leaves him, replaced by determination. “Are you sorry we had sex?”

“But Jay, I-“

He cuts me off again. “I love you.”

I know the right thing is to say it back, to admit that I don’t regret any of it, that I certainly wouldn’t object to doing it again, and again and again and again. But, and there’s always a ‘but’, he’s practically married. To a woman. Plus, with the right breaks at the right times he could really go somewhere in his acting. Besides, neither one of us is gay. And what if it doesn’t work out? What if he gets tired of me? What if we realize we’re better off as friends?

“You’re overanalyzing, Jen.” He waits a second before cupping my cheek in his hand. “You love me, too. I know you do. Maybe not chocolates-and-flowers love but you do. I see it in your eyes. So why don’t we give this a chance and see what happens huh? I mean we could be epic. People could end up writing stories about us.” His smile crinkles his eyes a little, lending him a sincerity I can’t ignore.

I blink, inhale, and try not to think for once. “People already write stories about us. It’s all over the net. The CW message boards even talk about our secret gay love…” He grins wide. I lean into his hand. “…Okay,” I tell him, because it’s all I have. Because in the end it’s all I want.

His eyebrows rise questioningly. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” I confirm. When he pulls me into an affectionate kiss I automatically surrender. “Okay.”

“Everything else will work out, Jen. You’ll see.”

The thing about Jay is what I know about him can be too much and not enough. And I’ll probably never know how we ended up here.  But I believe him.

“Your bed might be more comfortable. ‘Cause I know you. You’ll wanna cuddle or some shit.”

He simply grins in acknowledgment. When he springs up off the floor and offers his hand to help me up I shrug, taking it. I don’t even pretend to be unaffected when he arms wind themselves around my waist.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m the butch. You’re the bitch,” I joke.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, dude.” He winks while his fingers intertwine with mine.

So maybe the fact that I follow him without hesitation to his bedroom means I’m the bitch. Oh well. I’m not bothered anyway.


End file.
